


Rooftops

by SwiftEmera



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwiftEmera/pseuds/SwiftEmera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver has been acting secretive lately, and Barry can't quite figure out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rooftops

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Devil_In_Disguise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devil_In_Disguise/gifts).



> I wrote this for Lexie to bribe her into going to sleep because she's ill.
> 
> The prompt: Oliver has been acting secretive and he's leading blindfolded Bae somewhere unknown and Barry worries he's going to break up with him. But really he's planned an anniversary dinner on their rooftop which Barry is confused by because it's not their anniversary. But Oliver tells him it's not the anniversary of when they got together, but of when they met. And he proposes.

“Can we… talk?” ****

The hesitant words from Oliver caused Barry’s stomach to roll with something unpleasant.

His boyfriend had been acting strangely for weeks. Walking out of the room when he was receiving calls, avoiding his eyes when Barry would ask him where he’d been, cancelling plans last minute. It was pretty obvious what was going to happen, really.

Oliver was breaking up with him.

His mind had been running over all of the possible reasons for days now. Was the commitment getting too much for him after two years of a mostly happy relationship? Was Oliver just getting sick of him? Had Barry done something wrong? Was there… someone else?

Okay, the last one was ridiculous. He knew that. Even if Oliver wasn’t satisfied in their relationship, he’d never cheat. He wasn’t that type of person. Well, not anymore, anyway. Not since the island.

“I- yeah,” Barry replied, voice laced with sadness. “I guess we should… talk.”

Oliver squinted at him for a second, as though perplexed, before approaching him slowly. It was then that Barry noticed something in his hands – a dark patch of material. He held it in front of Barry with a soft smile. “I need you to wear this. Over your eyes.”

He took the blindfold hesitantly, eyes attempting to search Oliver’s face for answers, but the older man was just smirking back at him, as though he knew something that Barry didn’t. “Oliver, what’s going on?”

Huffing a short laugh, Oliver pried the blindfold back from him, before reaching to tie it around the back of his head, enveloping Barry’s vision in darkness. “Can you see anything?”

“I- no?”

“Okay, good. Take my hand,” Oliver said, and Barry felt his palm against his own, before he was lacing their fingers together. “No peeking.”

Trusting that Oliver had his reasons, Barry didn’t question it as he was led out of their house and into the car, which started without a word from either himself or Oliver – clearly the driver, most likely Diggle - knew where they were going.

It was strange, but the ordeal had settled him a little. It’s not like Oliver would go to all this effort to break up with him, after all.

But what, then? It wasn’t a special occasion. Their anniversary wasn’t for another few months, and Barry’s birthday was even further away. As the car came to a stop, though, and Barry heard the car door beside them click open before Oliver was tugging on his hand for him to follow.

The cold winter air hit him almost immediately, and when he shivered, he felt an arm wrap around his shoulder, Oliver pressing him into his body and rubbing his upper arm in attempt to provide some heat through friction. “Sorry, Barr, I really should have thought about weather, but I think it should be warmer when we get up to the top.”

“Top?” Barry asked, his head tilting slightly. “Oliver, where are you taking me?”

Lips pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, causing the knot in his stomach to loosen a little. “It’s okay, Barr. We’re nearly there. Just follow me, okay?”

He heard a door opening, and – were they in some sort of landing? All he knew was that he was being led up a seemingly endless stairwell, before he felt the wind hit his face again as he was led back outdoors, Oliver guiding him gently with his palm settled on his lower back.

A few seconds passed  in silence, and he was pretty sure he could feel Oliver’s hand trembling against him, before he reached up to untangle the knot securing the blindfold. All at once, their surroundings entered into his vision, and Barry couldn’t hold back the sharp intake of breath as he surveyed the area.

The first thing that he realised was that they were standing on a rooftop. Not just any rooftop, actually. It was the rooftop where he’d confided in Oliver all those years ago, telling the older man his worries over how he would fit into the vigilante lifestyle. The same rooftop where Oliver told him that he could be a hero – inspire people.

Of course, that night, the rooftop had been pretty much bare. Tonight, though, the entire area was lit up, fairy lights lining the surrounding walls. In the middle of it lay a table – a small, circular one draped in a white tablecloth, complete with candles, a singular rose in a vase and a bottle of ridiculously expensive looking wine.  He blinked, turning his attention back to the older man, who seemed to have taken a particular interest in the ground.

“What’s the occasion?” Barry asked, eyebrows drawn in concern. Had he missed something? Was he supposed to have gotten Oliver a present? Shit, had he fucked up?

Oliver, though, let out a quiet huff of laughter, before guiding him to the table and sitting him down, Barry still staring back at him, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. He felt a nervous flutter in his stomach as he took in Oliver’s expression from the chair across from him.

It was a few minutes before Oliver finally worked up the nerve to speak up.

“You know, three years ago today, I was working a case that completely changed my life. Some guy with superhuman strength. Do you remember it?” Oliver chuckled, covering Barry’s hand with his own in the middle of the table.

Barry remembered it well. It was the day he met Oliver for the first time. He’d been so anxious to make a good impression, and the older man seemed entirely unimpressed with his efforts. It was funny, now, to think of, but at the time it had been quite disheartening.

“It was our first time dealing with this kind of thing. And then this guy shows up, tells us that he’s working on a similar case back in his own city. Tall, nerdy, hot as hell.” He brought Barry’s hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles, before fixing him with a serious expression. “This guy, as it turns out, was the love of my life. This guy, who I tried so hard to push away because he had the most charming smile and he was so energetic and full of life, and I didn’t think that I deserved him. Honestly, I still wonder what I did to deserve him.”

Barry ducked his head, cheeks heating up despite the crisp winter air surrounding them. “Oliver, I-”

“Barry, I’ve never been one for commitments. There are few people in my life that I’ve ever let myself get close to, and most of them are- well, they’re family. I never wanted to get anyone else mixed up in this mess. But you- you wrestled your way into my heart anyway.” He snorted. “Fuck, I didn’t mean this to sound so damn cheesy.”

A choked laugh escaped Barry’s lips, tears welling in his eyes ever so slightly, and his cheeks were starting to hurt from grinning back at his boyfriend. Oliver let go of his hand – a brief flicker of disappointment running through Barry before he spotted what the older man was bringing out of his pocket. A small, turquoise box. His heart stuttered in his chest.

“I’m just going to get right to the point. I think I’ve talked enough. Barry Allen,” The box opened with a click, and Barry let out a shaky breath as he saw it glinting back at him – a small, white-gold band with a subtle diamond grooved into the middle. It was simple – probably more simple than people would expect from a billionaire, but it was perfect for them. Simple, clean. Easy. “Will you marry me?”

Despite the fact that he was managing to keep his voice calm, Barry could see the nerves breaking through his boyfriend’s facade. Oliver needn’t have worried, though. He let out a choked laugh, before he leaned over to kiss the worried look off the older man’s face, pouring every ounce of gratitude that he felt for him into it. When they broke apart, Oliver watched him, waiting patiently for an answer.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Ollie,” Barry rasped out, not quite trusting himself not to break down there and then. He could feel the wetness on his cheeks already, and Oliver reached over to swipe away the tears with the pads of his thumbs..

“Are you okay, baby?” Oliver asked, smile still lining his face.

“I’m just… so happy,” Barry replied, his eyes sparkling as Oliver slid the ring onto his finger. The perfect fit. “I- thought you were breaking up with me.”

He felt the older man freeze under his touch, drawing back to watch Barry with a frown. “Excuse me?”

Barry huffed, squeezing his hand again. “You were… being distant the past few weeks. You’d get these phone calls and… leave the room, and sometimes it felt like you were avoiding me, and I- I guess I just… overreacted. I’m sorry.”

Oliver grimaced. “Fuck, Barry, I’m so sorry. I was- the calls were about your ring. I had to keep getting it re-sized, and then… it took a lot to set this up,” he gestured his arm to the table. “I shouldn’t have- I- didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I love you so much. I just.. wanted this to be perfect.”

“I love you, too,” Barry replied, swiping playfully at his boyfriend – no,  _fiancée’s –_  arm. “Just…don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“I’m such an idiot,” Oliver groaned, running his hands over his face with a shaky sigh.

“Hey, no,” Barry replied, face softening. He reached over to remove Oliver’s hands from his face, catching the older man’s eyes with his own. “You’re not. I’m just… I’m paranoid. I- god, I ruined the moment, didn’t I?”

At that, Oliver snorted, pressing one final kiss to Barry’s lips. “Moment’s not over yet. You hungry?”

As if on cue, the door from the stairwell opened to reveal two familiar faces. Felicity, who was carrying two glasses in one hand, and propping open the door with the other, and Diggle, who was carrying a large platter-ladden tray.

“Is it over yet?” The blonde chirped excitedly, practically bouncing on her feet as she scrambled over to set the glasses before the couple. “Can we congratulate you now?”

“Well, if it wasn’t, you’d have kinda ruined the surprise,” Barry pointed out, a teasing smirk thrown towards his friend before he lifted his hand to show her the ring, waggling his fingers as he did so.

Felicity squealed as Barry rose to his feet to receive her hug, squeezing the blonde tight as she threw his arms around the back of his neck. “Congratulations Mr. Queen. Or, well. Mr. Allen-Queen. Queen-Allen? Would you hyphenate? You seem like a hyphenater.”

“We haven’t quite discussed that yet, Felicity,” Oliver gritted out, eyes raised towards her. Felicity’s eyes widened as she turned to regard the look on Oliver’s face. There was some amusement etched on it, but his eyes were clearly begging her to leave.

“Right. Yeah, I- sorry. Congratulations, Oliver,” She said, giving her a hug of his own before Diggle settled down the tray, making his way over to clap both men on the back in a congratulatory pat, before taking Felicity by the arm and leading her from the scene as swiftly as he could, Barry chuckling in amusement.

Oliver shook his head with a fond smile on his face. “You marry me, you marry my friends. That’s the deal.”

“Hey, Felicity’s my friend, too, you know. We even kissed once and everything,” Barry pointed out, wagging his eyebrows a little as he began to pour himself and Oliver generous glasses of wine. Not like it would affect him, anyway, and Oliver always had a high tolerance for alcohol.

“Don’t remind me,” Oliver replied, rolling his eyes. “Now, eat your damn meal, Mr. Allen-Queen, so that I can take you back to our hotel room and I can get you out of those clothes.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [here](http://smittenvigilantes.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


End file.
